A Chance To Get It Right
by SisAngel
Summary: When something horrible happens, Brennan is given the chance to change things. But will she be able to? Full genre Suspence/Romance/Supernatural T for violance/death No character death! Trust me! :D ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I know I should be writing 'Back To Me, Back To You' and not starting another chapter story, but I couldn't let this story go unread, so I'm going to try and juggle the two. I have started chapter 3 or BTMBTY after several weeks of writers block, so it should be up by the middle of next week at the latest. Thanks for sticking by me :)**

**Anyway, I hope you like this story. It's something I've wanted to write for a while.**

**What's going on will become more clear in the next chapter, but let's have some fun. Tell me what you think is going on and see if you can guess right :D**

**I'd like to thank *bookwormlady* for pointing out that I had been spelling "Hodgins" as "Hodgens" all this time. I had no idea I was doing that lol**

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Bones', but I'm ok with it. I will leave the show in the capable hands of Hart Hanson :)**

**Warning: There is no character death, but my eyes did get a little misty while writing this XD**

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The light shined through her window and cast a warm glow across her face. Her eyes fluttered open then closed when the light hurt. She rolled over and looked at the clock. 5:59am. She turned off the alarm before it could blare at her. Beat the clock again, she thought to herself with a satisfied smile. Stretching her arms out to the sides as she sat up, Brennan let out a deep yawn and climbed out of bed, stripping off her tank top and shorts on her way into her bathroom to ready herself for the day ahead.

********

Half an hour later Brennan was showered, dressed, and ready to go. She clasped her maroon beaded necklace around her neck just as there came a knock at her door. Knowing who it was, she smiled at his timing. She slipped on her boots, grabbed the two reusable coffee thermoses and walked to the door, opening it to reveal her partner with his fist ready to knock again. When he saw her, he smiled instantly.

"Morning, Bones," said Booth, stepping back to let her out.

"Good morning, Booth," she said with a smile, handing him one of the coffees and shutting the door and locking it.

"Thanks," he said, taking a sip and starting for the stairs with his hand on the small of her back.

"Have they found the suspect yet?" she asked as they approached the SUV.

"Not yet, but Charlie says they should by this afternoon," he replied as they both got in their respective seats.

"Great," Brennan nodded.

The rest of the drive to the Jeffersonian was in comfortable silence. He pulled right up to the door for her and she unbuckled her seat belt.

"See you at lunch?" she asked as she opened the door.

"If I don't take you to lunch, are you going to eat?"

"Probably not,"

"Then you know you'll see me at lunch," he smiled.

Her smile mimicked his as she exited the vehicle and walked to the door. He waited until she was inside before pulling away.

There was nothing more she could do with the current victim to help the case, so Brennan went straight to Limbo to work on naming some lost souls.

The day passed decently fast. Brennan had identified two bodies by the time Booth came to take her to lunch.

********

They were sitting in their usual booth at the Royal Diner in front of the window, enjoying each other's company and finishing their meals when Booth's phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and put it to his ear. "Booth."

He listened for a moment before thanking the person on the other end of the line and hanging up.

"That was Charlie," he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. "There's been a sighting of our suspect."

"Where?" Brennan asked, taking one last drink of water before they both stood.

"The warehouse district," Booth held the door for Brennan and followed her to the SUV.

"Let's go," she said once they were both in the car.

They sped down the highway towards their destination in a comfortable silence. It didn't occur to either partner that this could end badly.

They stopped beside one of the warehouses, exited the vehicle and stood for a moment, listening carefully for any sound that would give away the location on their suspect. As they came to stand next to each other in front of the SUV, they suddenly heard what sounded like something hitting metal, making a loud clang. Booth drew his gun and motioned for Brennan to stand behind him. Not wanting to argue in such a delicate situation, she complied and followed his slow pace around the building. Booth peered around the corner and saw their suspect, Robert Dow, pounding a lid onto an oil drum. He turned the corner quickly, keeping his aim on the suspect.

"Robert Dow," he shouted, gaining the man's attention. "This is the FBI. You're under arrest for the murder of Clark Dow."

The guy just stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before swiftly drawing his own gun and aiming it at Booth.

"I didn't kill my brother! It was an accident!" the man cried.

"Just put the gun down, give a confession and you'll go to jail for a lesser sentence," Booth tried to bargain.

Brennan peered around the corner and saw the man aiming a gun at her partner.

"I'd rather die!" Dow cocked his gun and Brennan could see his finger twitch.

She jumped out from behind the corner, afraid of what he would do if she didn't catch his attention. "Wait!" she screamed just as the man pulled the trigger, he turned his aim at Brennan.

"NO!" was the last thing Brennan heard Booth say as he was in front of her in a flash.

Dow turned and ran away as Booth felt a burning pain in his chest and collapsed to the ground right in front of his partner.

"Booth!" Brennan cried, closing the short distance between them and falling to her knees at his side. His breaths were short and quick. A bright red stain had already claimed the front of his shirt. She pulled off her jacket and balled it up, pressing it to the wound with her right hand and grabbing his hand with her left.

"B-Bones..." he choked out in less than a whisper.

He squeezed her fingers tightly, but then his grip began to weaken little by little. His eyes were wide and full of fear as they bore into hers. She heard the sirens of their backup in the background, but never took her eyes off his.

"They're coming, Booth! Just hang on! Please! Hang on!" she cried, tears falling from her eyes and onto the rapidly growing blood stain. "Just hang on, Booth! Please hold on!"

He barely sucked in half a ragged breath before his eyes clouded over and he released it. His chest stopped rising and falling.

"NO! Booth, please! Please! No!" she sobbed, caressing his face with her free hand and keeping pressure on the wound. "Please, Booth. Don't leave," she whimpered, tears falling freely down her face. "You promised you wouldn't..."

********

Brennan sat silent and motionless in her desk chair in her office, staring out into space. No one had come back from lunch yet, so she hadn't yet had to explain the blood on her hands when she was dropped off at the Jeffersonian a half hour ago by an FBI agent she didn't even know the name of. And she had yet had the displeasure of telling everyone that they had lost a part of their team. A part of each of them. She hadn't even bothered to wash the blood, his blood, off yet and it was starting to darken and dry to her skin.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sounds of people laughing and talking as they entered the lab. She looked up to see Cam, Angela and Hodgins coming in the entrance. Angela saw Brennan watching from her office and broke off from the group, heading in the direction of her best friend. When she got closer, she could see the pained expression on her face. When she got to the door, she saw the blood.

"Oh, my God! Sweetie, what happened?! Are you ok?!" she asked, hurrying over to her friend.

"I'm fine, Ange. This isn't mine," she replied in a low monotone voice, never even looking at Angela.

"Who's is it?" she dared to inquire.

Brennan then looked up at Angela with tears in her eyes. "It's Booth's," she said in a slightly higher-pitched voice. "He's gone, Ange." she whispered.

Angela's eyes grew wide and filled with tears instantly. "What?"

"He did it again. He stepped in front of a bullet meant for me," she said, her voice raising. "Him and his damn alpha-male, protectiveness got him shot again!" she shouted, anger consuming her as she pounded her fist down on the desk with a boom. "I can't believe him! Why would he do that again after he nearly died last time?!" she stood, facing Angela. "The only difference this time is he's not coming back! He's not going to just show up at his funeral! He's never coming back." her voice was becoming more laced with sobs with each word. "Because he's gone," she whimpered, suddenly quiet again. "He's gone, Ange."

Angela, who was crying full force by now, didn't know what else to do other than throw her arms around her best friend and hold her as they both let the sobs take over.

After a few minutes, Angela broke away and looked into Brennan's sad eyes.

"Bren, you need to wash your hands. It's not good to keep it," she said softly and compassionately.

Brennan just nodded and followed Angela as she lead her to the bathrooms with her hand on Brennan's wrist. Once inside they went over to the sinks and Brennan turned on the faucet of one. She stuck her hands under the hot water and watched as the last traces of him were taken from her skin and pulled down the drain. The water turned a sickly pink in the sink as she scrubbed with a handful of soap. Angela just watched her friend's face, then finally broke the silence.

"Would you like me to tell the others?" she asked softly.

Brennan nodded as a new batch of tears fell from her eyes.

For the rest of the day, Brennan didn't say one word. She stayed in her office with the door shut. Mostly she stared at nothing, but once in a while she would look out to the plat form and see Cam or Angela, or even Hodgins, crying when they thought no one was looking. It made her feel slightly better, knowing how loved he was.

It was five when Angela knocked on the glass office door and opened it, poking her head in.

"Sweetie, we're all going to Founding Fathers for a drink in honor of Booth. Everyone's going. Hodgins, Cam, Wendell, Sweets, Jared and a bunch of FBI guys...." she said, her voice shaking a gravely from crying all day. "Even Director Cullin," she smiled slightly. "Did you want to come?"

"No thanks, Ange. I think I'm just going to go home and go to bed," replied Brennan in the same gravely voice as her friend.

"Ok, but the offer still stands. Call me if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks."

With a warm smile, Angela left.

********

Once home, she stripped of her clothes, slipped on an over-sized T-shirt, and fell into bed. It was only 5:58pm, but she figured no matter when she went to bed, she was not going to be able to sleep. Brennan lay there silently, images of Booth running through her mind. Everything from the first time she met him, to the smile he had on that morning, to the fear in his eyes as he lay in front of her, dying. She crawled under the blankets, folded herself into a ball, and began to cry.

********

Brennan's eyes fluttered open, then quickly closed when the light streaming through the window stung. She rolled over and opened her eyes again, looking at the clock. 5:59am, but she didn't remember falling asleep.

She started to stand up when reality hit and knocked the breath right out of her and she sat back down. Suddenly the sobs rocked her body once more. Booth was gone. There was no changing that. He was gone because of her.

Finally calming down enough to stand, she headed towards her bathroom. As she passed the full-length mirror on the closet door, she stopped and stared at herself for a moment. She was in shorts and a tank top. The previous night was a bit of a haze, but she distinctly remembered wearing a large T-shirt to bed. Not the same shorts and top she had worn the night before. Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. She glanced at the clock. 6:30am on the dot. Could it be? Could have been just a nightmare? With an odd flutter of hope, she ran to the door and threw it open. Her eyes grew wide.

"Morning, Bones," Booth smiled, but it quickly went away and his brow furrowed when he saw her condition. "You ok? You're pale as a ghost and still in your pajamas."

She didn't respond. She did nothing but stare at him in wide-eyed shock.

"Bones, what's wrong? Are you sick?" he asked, becoming concerned.

Without thought, she threw her arms around his neck and started to quietly sob.

Like a reflex, he pulled her into him, stroking her back to try to calm her.

"Would you please tell me what's wrong, Bones? Why are you crying?"

"Nothing's wrong," she gasped between sobs. "Not anymore. It was just a bad dream."

"It must have been awful to make you cry like that."

She pulled away, his hands still on her back, and placed her left hand on his cheek and her right hand over his beating heart, and sighed with a smile, "You have no idea."

* * *

**To Be Continued!**

**Well, was it just a bad dream? A sighting of the future, maybe? Or is it something else...? Find out in the next chapter! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey there, Bone-heads! Haha! XD I called you a Bone-head, but it wasn't an insult! It's like I'm a Bone-head (fan of Bones) just like I'm a Rent-head (fan of Rent), a Swifter (fan of Taylor Swift), a Parrot-head (fan of Jimmy Buffet) and a Twi-hard (fan of Twilight) :D I just came up with Bone-head and Swifter. Let me know if you like or dislike either name :)**

**Anyway, I'm sorry for the long wait for an update on this story. I've been working really hard on this and 'Back To Me, Back To You' at the same time, so just hold tight and I'll move both along as fast as I can. I swear, after these two are done, I'm never posting an in-progress story again! XD I'm going to write the whole story before I post it so I don't have the guilt of making y'all wait. I'm sorry again XD**

**Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited and/or subscribed to me or this story. That makes me so happy that you guys like it!**

**Now, maybe after this chapter, you'll know what's really going on with Bones ;D One person already guessed right, but they were the only one to guess XD**

**Also also, I'd like to say that I promise, Booth will not die in every chapter! I know that that would get overly-sad and boring XD**

**

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"Really, Bones. What was that dream about?" Booth asked from the driver's seat as he drove his partner to the Jeffersonian.

He had waited on her couch for her to get ready, sipping the coffee he had made for them. He hadn't mentioned the way she looked so surprised to see him.

"I'd rather not talk about it, Booth. It was just a nightmare," Brennan replied calmly.

"It wasn't just a nightmare. You were crying."

She cringed at the fact that she had been so weak and vulnerable, but she had never been so happy to see him in her life, including the times he had come to save her.

"Was it something to do with me? Because you looked pretty surprised to see me after we agreed last night at dinner that I would pick you up this morning," he said, glancing at her to gauge her reaction. She only looked down to her hands with a sad expression, remembering the look in his eyes as he lay before her, dying.

"Yes." she said simply.

The twang of tears in her voice broke Booth's heart and told him to stop prodding. The ride was silent until they got to the Jeffersonian when she started to open her door and stopped, turning to look at him for a moment.

"See you at lunch?" she asked as she opened the door.

"If I don't take you to lunch, are you going to eat?"

"Probably not," she smiled, masking her discomfort at the deja vu feeling.

"Then I'll see you at lunch."

His smile mimicked hers as she exited the vehicle and walked to the door. He waited until she was inside before pulling away.

Brennan couldn't shake the feeling of daja vu that she had all throughout the day. Every time someone said or did something that they had in what she brushed off as a nightmare, a chill ran up her spine and she found herself worrying about what was going to happen that afternoon. She feared it, in fact. She did not want a repeat of what happened in her dream. She knew it was completely irrational to even think that it could happen. It was just a dream, right? But still, she was afraid.

Booth came to pick her up at noon to go to the diner for lunch. They sat in their usual booth, enjoying each other's company in a comfortable silence for a while. Brennan snatched a fry off of Booth's plate and ate it with a victorious smile. Booth gave her a mock glare and a smile that made her heart skip.

"So did Hodgins find anything about the particulates on the vic?" Booth asked, breaking the long moment of silence.

The mention of the case threw her thoughts back to their attempt at apprehending the suspect in her dream. Including the image of her partner lying in front her with blood covering his chest. For a moment, she stared into space, the color running from her face as she suddenly felt as sick as she did at that horrible moment.

Her paleness didn't escape Booth and he instantly became concerned.

"Bones?" he said, waving a hand in front of her face. "Bones, you ok?"

He didn't gain her attention and he could see the tears pecking at the corners of her eyes.

_She was there, pressing the wound on his chest, trying to keep the crimson life from pouring out of him. But it didn't stop his eyes from growing dull as he took his last breath. _NO!_ She cried._

"Bones!"

"No!"

"Bones, snap out of it!" he said, laying his hands on her shoulders, starting her out of her trance.

Her eyes were wide and glistening with tears, but they were looking at him again, instead of through him and into another world. Breathing heavily still, she shook her head.

"No, um...no...I mean...not yet," she stammered. "There isn't anything unique about the soil samples," she said in a small, almost shaky voice as she turned her gaze out the window in embarrassment.

"What was that about? I've never seen you like that," he said, still staring at her with concern in his deep brown eyes.

"It's nothing, Booth."

"The hell it is. Tell me what's going on."

"It's the nightmare, ok?" she snapped, looking back at him and making eye contact. "I don't...I don't know why it has me so shaken up. I've never had such a vivid dream, much less one that made me this...emotional...especially after waking."

"What happened in the dream?" it wasn't like he was asking, but telling her to tell him.

"Please, Booth...don't make me talk about it," her eyes began to glisten again.

"Bones -" Booth's phone began to ring, interrupting the speech he was about to give about how talking about it would help.

He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. "Booth."

He listened for a moment then thanked the person on the other line before hanging up and pulling out his wallet to pay for lunch.

"That was Charlie. There's been a sighting of our suspect," he said as they stood.

Brennan's eyes instantly widened again, "In the warehouse district," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Booth raised an eyebrow at her in question. "How did you know?"

She stiffened and thought quickly. "Isn't that the cliche hide-out for bad guys?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he laughed.

She watched him as they walked out to the SUV, committing everything from his laugh to his eyes to the way he walked, all to memory, fearing what was about to happen.

*

They were speeding down the highway with lights and sirens on, but Brennan didn't even register any of it, as she was too deep in thought. The dread of what was to come was so strong, she felt like she could hardly breathe. It was irrational, she knew, to fear something that may not happen, but she couldn't fight the feeling that she knew that it was going to happen.

As the SUV came to a stop in the same place it had before, Brennan shook herself out of her thoughts with a new found determination to do nothing she had done in the dream. So when Booth drew his gun and turned the corner, Brennan was not going to turn the corner, but stay put where she was.

"Robert Dow," she heard Booth shout. "This is the FBI. You're under arrest for the murder of Clark Dow."

"I didn't kill my brother! It was an accident!" the suspect shouted back.

"Just come quietly, give a confession and you'll go to jail for a lesser sentence," Booth tried to bargain.

"I'd rather die," the man said, and Brennan's heart raced as her chest burned, knowing what was coming next.

The crack of a gunshot echoed through the air, sending a chill up Brennan's spine. After a second of the aching need to know if her partner was still alive, she peered around the corner to see Booth with his gun still aimed towards Dow, who was on the ground with a bloody, heaving chest.

"Booth? Are you ok?" she asked, coming around the corner and walking towards him.

"Yeah, Bones," he said, holstering his gun and looking at her over his shoulder. "I just hate that part."

"I know," she nodded.

Suddenly, one more crack echoed off the buildings. She glanced at Dow who dropped his raised gun as he stopped breathing, then she looked back at Booth as his eyes went wide.

"Booth?" he collapsed to the ground. "Booth!"

She was on her knees, by his side in a flash, repeating the process of removing her jacket, balling it up and pressing it to the gunshot wound in his chest.

"C'mon, Booth, stay with me!" she said, grabbing and squeezing his hand. "You have to hold on!"

The sirens of backup were getting louder as they came closer. As he stared at her with fearful eyes, he forced himself to try to speak.

"No, don't talk. You have to save your strength," she said through her sobs.

"B-Bones..." he choked out before his eyes went dull and his chest stopped moving.

"No! NO! Booth! Please! No!" she cried, but he was gone.

*

She sat there, running through the day and her dream in her mind. It hadn't happened exactly the same way, but it had happened, and here she was again sitting in her office with his blood staining her hands as tears tracked down her cheeks. It had been a half hour since the nameless FBI agent had dropped her off, and just like her dream, Cam, Hodgins and Angela walked into the Jeffersonian. She didn't bother to wait for Angela to notice her, she just stood and walked out into the main lab, the team staring at her in shock when they noticed her.

"Oh my God! Bren, what happened?!" Ange asked, running over to her best friend.

"Booth was...killed...by our suspect..." she said quietly.

Gasps escaped each mouth. She didn't wait for anyone to say something before turning and walking to the bathrooms, knowing Angela was about to tell her she needed to wash off the blood. She braced herself with her hands on the sink, choking on sobs as she stared at the blood dried to her hands. After a moment she turned on the water and watched as the last traces of him were washed away. When she came out of the bathroom, her friends were all in their respective offices. She went into her own, but instead of staying, she grabbed her purse and spare jacket she kept in there and left without a word to anyone, headed for home.

*

Pushing through the door, Brennan numbly went through her routine of dropping her keys in the decorative bowl Angela had made Brennan for her birthday that sat beside the door, kicking off her shoes and hanging her jacket on the coat rack. She walked to the fridge and opened it, scanning the few contents before grabbing a beer, popping it open and downing over half of it in one gulp. Grabbing another and shutting the fridge, she finished the first one and dropped it in the glass recycling bin, walking over to the couch where she plopped down and started her second beer. The alchohol was slowly quieting her thoughts of ways she could have stopped this from happening. There was no point in thinking about what she could've done, because it had already happened and there was no way of changing it. There was no reason to be thinking about it. All it would succeed in doing is feeding the growing guilt she was already struggling with.

An hour and two more beers later, Brennan stumbled into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, not bothering to change out of her pants and maroon long-sleeved shirt. She lay on her back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling and letting the tears escape out the corners of her eyes and run into her hair. An hour passed like that. Looking over at the clock beside her bed she saw that it was 5:58pm then closed her eyes, thinking that Booth would want her to eat something, but she knew too well that if she attempted to eat anything, it would be rejected and she would vomit. When she opened her eyes, still facing the clock, she took in a sharp breath in surprise. The clock read 5:59_am_. She sat straight up, realizing that she was under the covers and there was a gentle glow streaming in through the window and across the room. Brennan was sure she had only closed her eyes for a moment. There was no way she had fallen asleep. And that's when she saw, as the clock began to buzz, that she was in shorts and a tank top again.

"What the hell is going on?" she said out loud to herself.

She got out of bed and went to the closet, throwing open the door. There hung the jacket she had used to put pressure on Booth's gunshot wound. The air left her lungs. If she still had the jacket, then...was he alive? If he was, he would be there in thirty minutes, so she showered and dressed and was finished just in time to hear the familiar knock on her door. She smiled to herself. She had another chance. She didn't care how or why, the fact remained, she did. But how, she wondered, was she going to stop it from happening again? And how many chances did she have?

When she pulled the door open, she couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Bones," he smiled at the sight of her. "Ready?"

She stopped to think for a second. _Was_ she ready to take on this day for the third time?

"Yes," she nodded.

* * *

**When I get reviews, the sun shines a little brighter for me. So why don't you hit that little green button and brighten my day? :D**


	3. Author's Note

Hi there, it's Angel. I'm not dead, ill or stranded on a deserted island. But I do have a reason for not updating this story. You see, at first, I didn't update because I didn't have a computer, but then my uncle gave me his sometime around the first of the year. But to be honest, I haven't had the drive to write Bones fics, mainly because I've only seen three and a half episodes of season 5 and I haven't seen any reruns in months. As soon as I get my computer out of the shop, I'll get caught up on season 5 and finish this, I promise. But until then, I just wanted to let you all know I haven't forgotten and that I'm very sorry.


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